


the one less traveled by

by ShowMeAHero



Series: no path runs smooth [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Confessions, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Healthy Relationships, Humor, Jealousy, Kid Fic, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Possessive Behavior, Post-Season/Series 02, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28397757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: For the next few days after Din’s arrival, Luke feels like he’s losing his mind. Everywhere he goes, he sees Din and Han, it seems.He turns a corner, and Din is there working on theSilver Omen,making the gunship even more impressive than Luke had. He goes to the dining hall, and Han is there making food, showing off some hitherto unknown cooking skill and offering Luke a bite of it. He opens his door, and Din is outside, offering Luke a fistful of flowers he found from the gardens at the edge of the village. He steps out of class, and Han isright there,telling Luke all about some cool move he pulled off training earlier that Luke just has to see.It’s like some invisible competition, some back-and-forth that Luke hasn’t been informed about and yet has been caught in the middle of all the same.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Past Luke Skywalker/Han Solo - Relationship
Series: no path runs smooth [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068683
Comments: 77
Kudos: 914





	the one less traveled by

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is an alternate canon where everyone's one big happy family on yavin and everything's fine
> 
> based on [this tumblr post i made](https://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/post/638292716083658752/thinking-about-luke-bringing-din-home-and-han)

Luke hadn’t taken an X-wing to find Din this time. The ship they return to looks something like the _Razor Crest,_ but lighter.

“Where’d you get an Imperial remnant like that?” Din asks. The gunship is a patrol transport, but still well-equipped and obviously disguised, painted over more than once, random pieces replaced with bits from other ships.

“A friend of mine hauled it in for me from a scrapyard,” Luke tells him. He welcomes Din on the platform into the ship. Grogu seems comfortable to be there — excited, even, to be getting on the gunship again — and so Din takes his lead to relax, for the time being. “I fixed it up myself. Its name is the _Silver Omen.”_

“That’s a dark name,” Din comments.

“I found the name painted on the bottom layer,” Luke tells him, smiling. “I would’ve picked something more optimistic, probably.”

The way Luke smiles at him makes Din’s heart race. It’s maddening; something about Luke is inherently maddening, and Din wants to follow him, find out more about him. He’s naturally curious, and Luke is definitely a curiosity.

“Why did you take the X-wing before?” Din asks, just to fill the silence. He usually relishes in it, but Luke is still smiling at him, leading him up to his ship, and he needs something else to focus on besides him.

“The X-wing is mine, too,” Luke says. “I have a few ships, but this one has more space. And besides, I thought it might go a way to convince you, if you’d needed convincing.”

“To go with you?” Din asks.

“To believe me,” Luke clarifies. “I worried you wouldn’t believe I was telling the truth.”

“Hard to deny the Force,” Din points out. Luke laughs, and Din’s skin prickles all over. It’s impossibly warming, _he’s_ impossibly warming, even beyond the energy just radiating off of him. He looks like he’d start vibrating if Din took his eyes off of him.

“It is powerful,” Luke allows. He pulls the ramp up with a swipe on the panel just inside the ship.

“Where are we going?” Din asks, hesitation sinking in as the ramp pulls further up. “Your temple, your academy. Do you live there?”

“Everything is on Yavin 4,” Luke tells him. “And, yes, I live there. There are other families, too. My sister’s, for one, and many friends of mine, with many children of their own. I teach some of them, but every child is different in the Force.” Luke motions them forward into the cockpit. Grogu pushes at Din’s armor until Din sets him down in the chair behind the co-pilot’s seat. After a moment of pause, he straps him in, as well. “Your child is one of the strongest I’ve ever met.”

“Is he?” Din asks. He’s beyond reminding people Grogu isn’t his child. Especially after saying goodbye to him, he knows, as well as those around him, that that’s not true anymore. Grogu is a foundling just as much as Din was when he was a child; because of that, Grogu is a Mandalorian, too. In all the ways that matter to Din, he is, at least.

Apparently, the Darksaber in the bottom of his bag makes him the rightful leader of Mandalore. Until he figures out how to pass the thing off to Bo-Katan — if he does, if _she_ does — that means he’s in charge.

That means Grogu is a rightful foundling, because he says so. Nothing more, nothing less.

“He is,” Luke assures him. Din knows the kid is special, but it’s good to hear it from someone else, too. Nice to hear it from a benevolent outside force, even one that makes Din feels like his entire body is humming.

“Yavin 4,” Din comments, as Luke lifts the gunship up off the ground. “Why Yavin 4?”

“It’s a fresh start,” Luke says. “A friend of mine decided to return there. When I went to Yavin to see the place, I could feel the energy before I’d even stepped off the ship. As soon as I was in orbit, I knew.” The brilliant starlight of the suns near them, streaking past them as they hurtle through space in the _Silver Omen,_ make Luke’s face light up. His blue eyes are sparkling; Din believes him about the Force. “I knew the planet was special. I knew it was strong. My students tap into the planet’s energy, they draw from it. Even those who aren’t quite so Force-sensitive can sense it. They just know.”

“Some places are like that,” Din replies. Luke smiles, and Din feels successful, almost proud. Grogu coos behind him, and Din leans back, raises an eyebrow at him even though the child can’t see it. He seems to know anyways, and waves at Din. Din sighs.

“There it is,” Luke says, pointing through the front window of his ship. Din leans forward for a better view and can see stretches of green far and wide, rivers snaking through forests. There are temples that break through the treetops at random intervals; Luke breaks through the atmosphere and soars past them all, coasting towards their unknowable goal.

For a moment, there’s nothing. Then, the air seems to shimmer, and the trees vanish into a dome of life, loud and filled with people and buildings. There’s an entire village that Din couldn’t see, invisible, hidden by forces beyond his abilities, and he’s so intensely interested in knowing _what_ and _why_ and _how,_ right away. He turns back to Grogu to find the child reaching for him, and he twists back to lift him up, pulling him free of his safety strap. Grogu leans forward with delight as soon as he’s in Din’s lap, peering through the window, cooing with delight.

“That’s incredible,” Din says. It feels like stating the obvious, but it’s not like Grogu will be saying it.

“Grogu likes it,” Luke tells him. “He’s practically shouting at me.”

“He’s practically shouting as it is,” Din points out. “Can he learn to speak like we can? Or does he only—” Din motions with one gloved hand between his head and Grogu’s, wriggling his fingers there. “—with the Force?”

“He can learn,” Luke says. “My master spoke. He spoke in riddles, but he did speak, and your child will learn, too. He’s still so young by the standards of his species, and has a long way to go. I know you will be up for the task.” Luke stops talking, but it only feels like a pause. Din waits to speak, anticipating more, and he’s correct; after only a few moments, Luke continues. “May I ask you a question?”

“I may not answer,” Din warns him. For some reason, Luke smiles at that answer. Din’s not sure why, when it’s only the truth, but that same lava-heat blossoms inside him again and sends rushes of fire through his veins, humming all over. Luke makes his heart just _race._

Luke looks to him and, somehow, Din feels that they lock eyes. Through the visor, Din watches as Luke smiles, leaning sideways in his pilot’s chair, one arm wrapped backwards around the headrest. Din rubs Grogu’s back in a circle with his thumb, just for something to do with his hands. The way Luke looks at him makes Din feel _seen,_ like Luke is so powerful he can see through the beskar and through Din’s eyes and skull through to the core of him, whatever lays inside.

* * *

Luke stares hard at Din’s helmet and wishes, more than anything, that he could see the man’s face underneath again.

He knows how many Mandalorians felt about their helmets, he knows about their codes, and he knows how monumental it must have been for Din to remove his helmet and present his bare face to Grogu. Never mind the rest of them having seen it as an unfortunate side effect.

Well, unfortunate for Din, Luke assumes. Fortunate enough for Luke, himself, because he saw a handsome face he might otherwise have gone his entire lifetime without seeing. It’s a selfish delight, but he takes them where he can find them, these days. 

In spite of Din’s warning that he may not even answer Luke’s question, Luke continues to ask, “That weapon you have. Do you mind telling me about it?”

Din is unreadable. Luke can’t see his face, but his body language seems to stiffen up a bit, shoulders going tense.

“It’s called a Darksaber,” Din tells him. “It doesn’t belong to me.”

“It feels like it does,” Luke says, because it’s true. He sees no reason to keep the truth from Din, no reason not to be honest with him. The Mandalorian has been nothing but forthright and open with him, though Han has made fun of Luke time and time again for trusting too easily.

Either way, he sees no reason to lie to Din, or to Grogu. Honesty has only done well by him; lies have only caused him problems lately.

“It _feels_ like it does?” Din asks, a questioning echo. His energy in the Force almost sings with curiosity, with the drive to _know_ and to _do_ as much as he possibly can. Luke recognizes it within himself, too; it’s within Leia, and Han, too. Din is a kindred spirit.

“It does,” Luke says. “The Force is…” Luke doesn’t want to feel _too_ much like the vague Jedi Master that Ben had once been to him, but such a big part of him _loves_ the flair. “The Force is powerful, and powerfully indicative, too. I can feel when people and objects have particular energies.”

“Like the kid,” Din points out. “And Yavin.”

“Exactly,” Luke says. “And you, actually. And the weapon on you.”

“I have an energy?” Din asks.

“You do,” Luke tells him. He has to focus on piloting again, as he gets closer to the clearing beside their air base that serves as a landing strip. “It’s…” Luke pauses.

“It’s bad,” Din says, more statement than question.

“No!” Luke rushes to say. He guides the _Silver Omen_ down effortlessly to the flattened grass. As he lands, he tells Din, “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have stopped like this. It’s just— You know, it’s almost impossible to describe.” Luke pauses for another moment before he reaches out with his remaining flesh hand. “Would you like to feel how it feels?”

Din still hesitates. Luke understands; the Force still can overwhelm him, and he’s had years to get used to it. People who are new to the Force — especially ones with such a dawning and shining presence within it — can be overwhelmed even easier, taken down with a blow mentally, emotionally. Luke has seen it, and more than that, he’s lived it, time and time again.

“Would it be like the vision you showed me?” Din asks. “Outside the cantina. Just before my eyes? Nothing more?”

“Nothing more if you didn’t want,” Luke tells him. “I can show you tastes, smells. I can show you how something feels.”

For a moment longer, Din seems to think. Then, he extends his own hand to Luke’s again. “I would like to feel that. What you feel when you see me.”

Luke smiles and tells him, “I can do that for you,” starting to flip off the engines on the ship. He turns his seat completely, takes Din’s offered hand between both of his.

Luke focuses entirely on Din. Grogu, in his father’s lap, is a small and golden warmth, content and sleepy. He has a hazy blue-grey exhaustion washed over him, still so sleepy, and it’s easy enough to push past to find Din’s energy instead. Luke shuts his eyes; it’s easier to find the Force when he’s not looking at the living world around him. He can feel the Force moving all around them, flowing through all things, and through him to Din, swarming them with resplendent sweetness.

Din feels muted, almost, like he does have control over the Force already. He’s sure Din would find that interesting, and sends the feeling through their palms into Din, up through his mind. Din inhales sharply; Luke hears it as much as he feels it, through their connection.

He pushes more at the warmth of Din’s energy, at the protective strength and the curious inquisition and the courageous power. Din is practically humming with that _power,_ with tenacity and determination; Luke has never felt it quite so concentrated. The thrill that rushes through him at the thought of that power focused on _him_ is nearly as overwhelming as the Force.

“This is incredible,” Din breathes. Grogu makes a delighted sound, a cooing sigh, but it’s underneath the sounds flowing through Din and Luke between the Force, halfway between real-life speech and pure energy. “This is how I feel to you?”

“A shade of it,” Luke says, nearly a question. It’s not much of an answer, but it’s true. Din can only feel a fragment of what Luke feels within the Force, until (or _unless)_ he’s properly trained, someday. Maybe he’d let Luke start training him. The Dark energy in his bag indicates he has more power than Luke knows — than maybe even Din knows — and this, _this_ flowing golden energy around him, is only the beginning of that power.

More than that, Luke is _drawn_ to him. It’s not just how tender he was with his son, or how powerful he apparently is, or how handsome he is under his helmet, though he knows Leia will accuse him of falling for a pretty face. It's everything.

“A shade?” Din asks.

“Just a shadow,” Luke allows, and withdraws. He can feel Din’s pulse quickening under his fingertips, and he’s not about to overwhelm the man the moment he’s touched down on Yavin 4. “If you choose to learn the ways of the Force, you’ll be able to feel it all for yourself. You’ll feel as strong as a sun.”

“Does everybody?” Din asks, as Luke separates his mind completely from Din’s, leaving just an imprint of himself behind, an echo. His Force fingerprints, Leia calls them, all over her brain when he leaves, like smudges on glass. A reminder he’s been there.

“No,” Luke answers without thinking. “You’re bright. Brighter than most.” Luke motions to Grogu, can feel his warmth reaching out, too. “He agrees. He was drawn to you immediately.”

“Is he still?” Din asks.

“He’s connected to you, now,” Luke tells him. The connection between Din and Grogu is relatively new, but not at all unfamiliar to Luke. It’s the bond of a parent and a child, powerful and without condition. It’s instinctive, deeper than their bones. The bond is interwoven with their energies, and ties them to one another. This same bond is between Leia and Ben, between Han and Ben, between Kes and Poe, between Shara and Poe — between the many parents and children on Yavin 4, and the others he knows throughout the galaxy. They come in all different essences. No one bond is the same, but they all have this same tinge of protection and love. It can, of course, be broken, but it is one of the strongest bonds Luke feels.

“That’s…” Din starts to say, then stops. “I’m glad to hear that. He’s a special kid.”

“You can say that again,” Luke tells him. “And who better to take care of such a special kid?”

The ship opens abruptly, activated from the docking port outside. A droid Luke recognizes from a repair not long ago has lowered the ramp and allowed someone barging up and into their cockpit, though Luke probably should have assumed who it would be.

“Han,” Luke greets him. He realizes, as Din’s fingers subconsciously tighten around Luke’s joined hands before pulling away, that they’d still been holding hands at all. Not only that, they’ve both shifted to the edges of their seats, knees slotted together, leaning forward into one another, heads bowed in close.

“Luke,” Han says, stopping right in the entryway to the cockpit. “Who’s this guy? Looks a lot like our old friend Fett, you remember that old moron?”

Din’s energy shifts completely, golden warmth subduing like a cloud in front of the sun. Luke frowns at him; he feels the frown only deepen when Din separates from him, pulling away to stand, setting both hands on Grogu to hold the child to his chest.

“Do you know Boba Fett?” Din asks. Han frowns at him, too.

“Do _you_ know him?” Han asks. “That guy tried to kill me, you know. Practically killed Luke here.”

“But he didn’t,” Luke pointed out. He turns to Din and comments quietly, “You didn’t tell me you knew him.”

“I know a lot of people,” Din says. “I haven’t brought up any of them just yet.”

The way he says it makes Luke feel like he’s extending a hand, like it’s a small invitation. Luke accepts it, says, “I’d love to hear more about them later, then.”

Han’s energy changes, too. He feels different in the Force, more obvious in some ways and more muted in others, but they’ve known each other so long now that his body language practically shouts in ways even the Force doesn’t.

* * *

When Han had seen Luke’s ship touch the grass, he’d waited for him to come off himself. After time had kept on ticking by and nobody came off the _Silver Omen,_ he’d asked a droid to let him up on the thing. Joke’s on Luke, for granting him access to most of his ships and rooms.

He’d expected Luke distracted by the kid he’d gone out to find, then left like a shot with this morning, even though he’d _just_ brought him here. Maybe the kid had to leave or something — it’s happened before, when kids or parents change their minds. Han wonders if he’ll have to make a choice like that with Ben. The stronger he gets — and he’s getting stronger all the time — the more obvious that choice becomes, but Leia hasn’t brought it up and neither has he. He likes to follow her lead, anyways, even if he’d never say it, and he likes even more to _never_ talk about what he’s thinking or feeling. It’s his preferred state, actually, if asked.

Han’d _expected_ Luke to be distracted. Luke is always getting distracted. He _didn’t_ expect Luke to be distracted by someone else, someone in the armor of a Mandalorian like Boba Fett, holding Luke’s _hands._ His _hands._

And the way Luke looks at him, the way he _speaks_ to him. Han’s known Luke since the kid dug himself up out of the sand on Tatooine and asked Han for a ride, he knows what the kid looks like when he’s trying to flirt, and he’s trying it. As always, it’s endearing, and, as always, that infuriates Han in a way he doesn’t totally understand. It’s been years since the last time he and Luke slept together, but that’s his own damn fault. He’d told Luke he didn’t want to be tied down, Luke had let him cut himself free, and then Ben had come along all the same.

Sometimes, Han wonders what it would’ve been like to have stayed with Luke. He can’t imagine life without his son, or without Leia, but he still loves Luke, he does.

And he prickles when he sees some good-for-nothing nobody holding Luke’s hand like it means something, putting that look on Luke’s face if they don’t intend to mean anything by it. It’s just gonna break Luke’s heart, is all, and that bothers Han. He’s a good guy, and a good friend, and Luke’s practically family, he supposes, in a way. Han sees it as his responsibility, to look after Luke. After all, others see him as this powerful Jedi, but Han can still see the farmboy underneath. He _knows_ Luke. That _means_ something.

“Han?” Luke asks. Han frowns, focusing, feeling almost hazy. He hadn’t even realized how far he had zoned out, until Luke’s voice pulled him back in. His eyes, he realizes, are focused on their hands, so close together still.

“Sorry,” Han says, gathering himself. After another moment of pause, just staring at the stranger’s gloved hand next to Luke’s, Han drags his eyes up to Luke’s. He sees genuine concern there, and he swallows before speaking. “I just— Long day, you know.”

“Oh, Ben again?” Luke asks. He turns to the guy beside him. “Ben is his son. Remember I mentioned my sister had a son?”

“You did,” the guy says. He turns to look at Han — at least, Han assumes he does. His helmet turns towards him, in any case.

“Well, this is his father,” Luke says. “Han Solo. A very good friend of mine.”

Han prickles at being called a very good friend, even if it’s true. Maybe _because_ it’s true.

“And Han,” Luke continues, “I’d like you to meet my new friend.” He seems like he’s going to continue speaking before he pauses, then turns back to the man beside him. “How would you like to introduce yourself?”

The guy hesitates even longer than Luke had. When he turns his head towards Han again, he says, “My name is Din Djarin.”

“You’re a Mandalorian,” Han says.

“I am,” Din Djarin says. “And you’re Han Solo. You’re a smuggler, aren’t you?”

“Oh, so you do know Han,” Luke comments, in that sunny way he has of saying things like that.

“I’ve heard his name,” Din says. He seems to be surveying Han for another long moment before he turns back to Luke. “I’ve never seen his face. I didn’t recognize him based on what I’ve heard.”

Han bristles even more at that. Who does this guy think he is, showing up and not even showing his face before he starts hurling insults? And Han _knows_ an insult when he hears it, he can hear it in the _tone,_ if it isn’t in the words. He _knows_ it, he deals in social etiquette, even if Leia would snort to hear him say that. He _does,_ and this guy just makes him mad.

“Well, hopefully you’ll find that I surpass my reputation,” Han says. Din Djarin barely glances at him — again, Han can only assume — before he stands. After a moment, Din offers Luke his hand.

Han, for a moment, believes this is completely absurd, and that Luke will, of course, say no. He doesn’t need help _standing,_ he’s just—

But he _takes Din’s hand._

More than that, as Din is helping Luke to his feet, even though Luke _clearly doesn’t need the help,_ Din says, “I’m sure we’ll see.”

Luke, of all things, _smiles_ for a second before the expression vanishes. Din doesn’t see it, quick as it was, but Han does, and when he and Luke lock eyes, he can tell Luke _knows_ he saw it.

In an instant, Luke’s spine straightens, his shoulders square, his chin lifts. Han _knows_ this Luke, bratty Luke who wants his way and knows he’ll get it. He used to love this Luke. Honestly, part of him still kind of does.

“We will,” Luke says. He says it right to Han before he turns back to Din. “Let me show you where our homes are. There are a couple of empty options. You could choose one, if you’d like, and just live there, or you can stay in one and build your own home. It’s entirely up to you.” Luke starts to step out of the cockpit, but finds Han blocking their way.

For a moment, Han doesn’t move. He just looks down at Luke, meeting his blue eyes for a long, long moment. It’s only after that that Han realizes Luke still has Din’s hand in his.

Then, Han steps aside. Luke guides Din off the ship, and Han watches them go. He falls into step behind them, following them to the hangar until he hears his son shout, “Dad!” from across the grass to his left. He turns just in time to catch Ben in his arms as his son leaps up at him, but, when he turns back to the hangar, Luke and Din have vanished from view.

“Who was Uncle Luke with?” Ben asks, tangling his fingers up in the hair at the back of Han’s head. Han scans for Luke for another moment before turning to his son, accepting the kiss he gets pressed to his cheek.

“Just some guy,” Han tells him. He looks Ben in the eye and asks, “Where’s your mother?”

* * *

Luke has to hand it to Leia: waiting until after supper to confront Luke about their newest arrival on Yavin 4 makes him incredibly tense by the time she actually does show up at his home.

“Are you all alone?” Leia asks, when Luke opens his front door to her knock. He sighs, stepping aside so she can come inside.

“I am,” Luke tells her. “How much have you heard?”

“Oh, I’ve heard enough,” Leia says. She pushes his door shut for him, then crosses right by him to the little kitchen he built for himself. He, and a few others in their village, built his home and many others, when they first arrived. Showing Din the available land nearby earlier had made the man hard to read, but he’d still chosen a place to stay with his son, and he still chose a plot of land to potentially construct a home on. He’s still deciding what he’s going to do — or so he said to Luke — but Luke can tell, he doesn’t want to be far from Grogu. As long as Luke is teaching his son, Luke thinks Din won’t be very far for very long.

Then again, he’s a Mandalorian who still wears his full uniform, who won’t reveal his face, and who carries a Dark weapon in the bottom of his bag like it’s a forgotten lunch. Luke can’t pretend that he knows Din well when he’s only known him hardly a day, even if it feels like they’ve known each other so much longer, like they’re connected.

There’s still so much to know. The older Luke gets, the more he realizes he has so much to learn — about Din, sure, but about others in general. About the galaxy. About himself, even.

“Han didn’t seem to like him very much,” Luke ventures to say, as Leia pulls a couple of cookies from the open dish on his table. She passes one off to him, and he takes it, sitting beside her in the chairs Han built with him.

“Han doesn’t seem to like anybody very much,” Leia points out.

“That’s not true,” Luke says. Leia makes a waffling motion with her hand, tilting her head backwards to look up at the ceiling as she bites into her cookie. “He loves you. And Ben.”

“And you.” Leia tips her head to look at Luke sideways.

“Ah, well,” Luke says. He sets his cookie down on the tabletop. “I love him, too. But you and I both know that—”

“It doesn’t mean he loves you any less,” Leia points out. Luke sighs, rubbing at his forehead with the metallic robot fingers of his prosthetic hand. He keeps the glove off, a lot of the time, at home.

Luke starts to talk, then stops. He’s not sure what he wants to say. After a long moment, he tells Leia, “I like this guy, Leia.”

Leia grins. She kicks her heels up onto his table, legs crossed at the ankles. “Do you? I saw him grabbing food for him and his kid. Took it back to his place to eat it, though. Does the helmet ever come off?”

“It doesn’t,” Luke tells her. She waits, because she knows him too well. “But I saw him take it off, when we first met. He showed his son his face, and we spoke.”

“And?” Leia asks.

“And what?” Luke asks, picking his cookie back up. He bites it in half to fill his mouth.

“And how’d he look?” Leia demands. “C’mon, you _know_ ‘and what,’ don’t play dumb with me. We shared a womb, you know.”

“Yeah, alright,” Luke says. “And you’ll never let me forget it.”

“Quit avoiding the question,” Leia prods.

“He’s handsome,” Luke allows, and Leia’s boots come down onto the ground as she exclaims with delight. “Alright, _alright,_ calm down. His son called through the Force for help, I answered, that’s all.”

“That’s _not_ all,” Leia tells him. Her smile fades a bit, looking a little more serious as she tells Luke, “To hear Han tell it, Din is a despicable scoundrel here to steal your virtue.”

Luke can’t help but snort. “I doubt that.”

“So do I.” Leia tilts her head to catch Luke’s eye, grins at him when she does. “You and I both know you don’t have any virtue left to steal.”

Luke groans, shoving the last of his cookie into his mouth so he can put his head into his hands. After he finishes chewing, he asks Leia, “Do you think I’m being an idiot?”

“No moreso than usual,” Leia answers. Luke knows she’s telling the truth; she says the words with her mouth as much as her mind, the Force vibrating between them as it always does. “You know Han.”

She leaves it at that. Luke can tell she wants to say more, but she stops, and she leaves it at that, and he appreciates that.

“I do,” Luke agrees. He sighs, then repeats, “I do,” leaning back again, pressing his metal hand over his eyes. There’s a long moment before he lifts his fingers to look past them at Leia. “I think I’m going to go for it.”

“Good thinking, little brother,” Leia tells him. “Don’t get in the habit of it, though. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Oh, shut it,” Luke tells her. He gets up to get her another cookie. “And we don’t _know_ you’re older.”

“I can feel it,” Leia says. “So, tell me more about Din Djarin.”

* * *

For the next few days after Din’s arrival, Luke feels like he’s losing his mind. Everywhere he goes, he sees Din and Han, it seems.

He turns a corner, and Din is there working on the _Silver Omen,_ making the gunship even more impressive than Luke had. He goes to the dining hall, and Han is there making food, showing off some hitherto unknown cooking skill and offering Luke a bite of it. He opens his door, and Din is outside, offering Luke a fistful of flowers he found from the gardens at the edge of the village. He steps out of class, and Han is _right there,_ telling Luke all about some cool move he pulled off training earlier that Luke just has to see.

It’s like some invisible competition, some back-and-forth that Luke hasn’t been informed about and yet has been caught in the middle of all the same.

If he was pressed to admit it, Luke would say he doesn’t mind the attention. He and Han haven’t been intimate with one another since he and Leia got more serious, but the affection is welcome all the same. Din seems to like Luke more every day, and Luke likes him back; his attentions are welcome, and warm, and wonderful. Han has moved on, and Luke knows that, and he sees no harm in seeing where things go with Din, if they even go anywhere.

Luke hopes they go somewhere. He _thinks_ they’re going somewhere.

And still, Han shows him the ship he’s building and asks Luke’s opinions. He gives Luke desserts he’s made. He praises Luke’s style during training sessions. Luke glows with the attention, but still, he knows it’s not anything more. He knows they can’t be anything more, and Han has made that clear.

So, there’s no harm in pursuing Din. Din, who invites Luke onto the _Silver Omen_ and works side-by-side with him, lost in comfortable conversation. Din, whose energy just glows with warmth when he’s with Luke or with his son, and who just shines when he’s with them both. Din, who is still so new and yet so familiar, who Luke wants more and more of every day.

Din and Han don’t seem to get along, which Luke can’t begin to understand. He thinks they’d like each other, if they gave one another a chance.

“Luke,” Din says, as Luke considers all of this, standing outside his house. He’d come out to water the flowers by his front door with a jug from inside, then gotten lost in thought, standing there, watching the blooms on the petals. Din casts a shadow behind him; when Luke turns, he finds the Mandalorian there, in full armor as always, his son in his arms.

“Good morning,” Luke says.

“Good morning,” Din says back. “I found an interesting waterfall. I thought you might like to come with me to see it.”

Smiling, Luke nods, setting the jug down on his front steps and turning to take Din’s arm. “I’d love to,” he says.

Losing his mind or not, Luke’s not sure he cares either way. Din’s worth the madness, he thinks, as Din takes him and Grogu to the tree line and further, to see a waterfall Luke has seen many, many times before, water sparkling in the sun, reflecting off of Din’s helmet when Luke watches him watch the water.

* * *

Settling Grogu in with the other students doesn’t take very long at all. Luke realizes quickly that the kid is openly affectionate and deeply talented. He can communicate through the Force easily with Luke, but has a harder time with the other children; they’re all struggling to learn, and using the Force as a language, as a way to distinctly communicate, is still a ways off for most of them. Beyond that, Grogu is young for his species, and so he needs to be in the youngest class by default. He needs additional care, and frequent rest, like any other infant would. His power is incredible, but he’s still a child.

Settling Din in, however, isn’t quite as easy. Grogu takes to the other students, and they take to him, but Din doesn’t seem interested in engaging with many others. He talks to a couple of the other parents, but, otherwise, he’s by himself or with Luke. Occasionally, Leia has sought his company, and reported back to Luke that she had a pleasant time with him. Other than that, he hasn’t heard much.

However, Din does come to Grogu’s classes and training sessions often to observe him. It’s been days now, going on weeks; Din’s home is being planned, he takes his meals alone in his home with his child, and he spends most of his free time training alone in the woods, or in Luke’s company.

They flirt with each other. Luke knows _he’s_ flirting, anyways, and Din always responds in kind. The way they go back and forth — Luke feels a connection to him he’s not sure he’s ever felt with anyone before.

Of course, they haven’t kissed. Din hasn’t said anything specific about his intentions, and Luke doesn’t want to push. Everything is new. More than that, he doesn’t want to push Din away, scare him off. He’s familiar with the flighty loner types, has fallen for more than his fair share of them. He’d like Din to stay around him a bit longer, regardless.

Din’s eyes practically burn on the back of Luke’s head, even through his helmet, when he shows up at a Jedi training session with the smallest of the younglings, Grogu among them. Ben is among them today, as well; Leia frequently drops him off at these sessions, though he knows Han prickles at it.

Other parents and guardians are there, observing their children and charges. Leia and Han are there, supposedly watching Ben train, though he thinks they’ve been arguing quietly for most of the session. As long as they keep it quiet during his classes, he doesn’t intervene. They know that, he knows that, especially after the last loud argument they had _during_ one of his student evaluations.

As soon as Din comes in, Luke feels his eyes on the back of his head, helmet or no, looking at him or not. Luke just _knows,_ and he turns to find the Mandalorian’s helmet facing in his direction. He waves, and Din lifts his hand in return, inclining his head before he moves to find a place to sit. He’s at a slight distance from the other parents, but not too far. He’s arguably the closest he’s ever sat to them, and Neki, Eli’s mother, scoots a bit closer to him, leaning in to ask about Grogu. Luke feels something like pride as he hears the low modulated hum of Din’s voice when he answers, even through the kids’ voices.

“Uncle Luke!” Ben calls, and Luke turns to him, right near his ankles. “I need your help.”

Luke kneels down and accepts the two broken pieces of a thin stone that Ben drops into his hands. A couple of other students come closer, Grogu among them.

“It broke while I was lifting it,” Ben tells Luke. “Sorry. But can you fix it?”

Luke surveys the stone, still kneeling on the flattened grass of their outdoor training ground. He cups both halves of the stone in his flesh palm, feeling the hum of the Force vibrating around them. The stone isn’t living, but the material it's made of is easy enough for Luke to fuse together, the brilliant rush of his green Force energy filling in the gaps and cracks to stitch the stone into one piece again. The children all gasp and exclaim as the stone hovers above their heads, above his hand, floating as it mends itself through him and the Force. He relishes in their delight and their wonder, grinning when the stone falls back into his palm and the children gather close to see it.

“Do you see how it’s changed?” Luke asks his students. They nod, all together; a couple of them say, _“Yes, Master Luke.”_

“It’s different,” Ben tells him. “It’s got a green crack now.”

“It was broken,” Luke explains. He turns the stone over and grips it between his fingertips for a moment before he offers it to his nephew. Ben takes it in both of his hands, holding it delicately in his cupped palms. “It is no longer broken, but it will never be the same. It was broken with the Force, and repaired with it, but it will be forever changed by it.” Luke taps the stone in Ben’s hand, then turns to the student closest to his left. Grogu, as it turns out. “The power we wield as Force users, and as Jedi, is incredibly strong. It can destroy, but it can also heal. However, it cannot turn back time, and it cannot undo any hurts that you cause, to the galaxy around you or to others. Do you understand?”

The children all nod again, looking at him with such serious eyes. He knows how intelligent they are, can practically see the wheels turning behind those eyes as they process what he says. These are the moments when he truly knows he is doing what he was always meant to do; even if he never became a Jedi, if he never learned the Force, he thinks he’d always have liked to be a teacher.

“Would anyone like to watch the next class’ warm-ups?” Luke asks, and most of the children agree, though a couple shake their heads and leave with their parents to get snacks or play games, far away from their school. Luke gets it; he used to love running away from classes at the end of the day to play with his friends.

The next students are much older than Ben and Grogu’s class, but they are the youngest in their village. Most other students in the settlement are older, and a lot of them have begun training with weapons. It’s not Luke’s favorite thing to do, but he knows it’s necessary. Other guardians in the village know it, too, and insisted on it when Luke started the school.

Luke doesn’t use his lightsaber with the children, ever. He keeps them safely locked away in his home, only to be used and trained with when he’s alone, or with someone like Leia, or Han. He’s hoping Din is close to accepting his training, too. Luke has offered a couple of times, curious about Din’s Dark weapon, but Din doesn’t seem to have accepted the responsibility of the weapon fully, not just yet. Soon, Luke hopes.

As the classes swap out, Luke looks up to meet Din’s eyes through his visor, he believes. He finds the helmet easily in the crowd, still sitting in the same spot, and offers a grin. Din stands; at the same time, Luke sees movement in his peripheral vision, and turns to see Han standing, too, attention locked on Din just as Luke’s had been.

Confused, Luke looks back to Din. He’s nearly to Luke, now, and Luke kneels down to scoop Grogu up into his arms. He passes him off to Din as they meet in the grass.

“Good afternoon,” Luke greets him with a smile. Din inclines his head to Luke before he turns down to Grogu, thumbing his son’s ear.

“You did a wonderful job in class today,” Din says. For a moment, Luke thinks he’s speaking to _him._ After a beat, he’s not entirely sure Din _wasn’t,_ actually.

“He’s very talented,” Luke points out. “He’s getting closer to speaking, too. I’m sure you can tell that, though.”

“I can,” Din says. “I think it’s all the time with the other kids.”

“That’ll do it,” Luke comments. There’s a moment where neither of them speak, but then Din looks to Luke again.

“That trick with the rock,” Din says. “That was something.”

“Thank you,” Luke says. His insides flare with warmth, but he tries to keep the more obvious effects of that off of his face. “It’s pretty much a parlor trick, but visualizing the damage the Force can cause is important. These kids are growing up without knowing about— You know, about Darth Vader, and the Empire, and the Sith, or any of that. It’s good, that it’s all gone, but still. They need to know about it.”

“Nothing is ever gone,” Din says. Luke nods.

“And they need to be prepared,” Luke says. It feels too serious, too grave, so he laughs and adds, “Not that they’ll ever use any of it, I hope. But they’ll be ready if they do.”

“I’m grateful,” Din says. Luke can _feel_ his face flash with heat before he can stop it.

“Listen,” Luke says, “I know it must seem like a heavy burden to bear, but… Whatever help you need, with the Darksaber, or with whatever you have going on. I’m happy to offer it.”

Din doesn’t speak, for a long moment, and Luke fears that he’s pushed the man too far, finally. He’s starting to take it back, just about to apologize for overstepping, when Din says, “Thank you. I’ll…” He pauses, then asks, “Could I come by after mealtime tonight? After dark. The kid’ll be asleep by then.”

“Of course,” Luke says. “You’re welcome to stay and watch the next class, if you’d like. We’ll be sparring. You can watch my form.”

Din doesn’t say anything, but the positioning of his helmet and the warmth practically radiating off of him in searing waves through the Force make Luke’s heart race all the same.

“I’d like to watch your form,” Din tells him, voice low enough that nobody can hear. Ever since he first arrived, he’s been saying things like that, things that make Luke’s hands shake and his skin hum and his pulse fly. He touches Luke’s hand, his shoulder, his back. Every day they get closer, and every _day_ Luke wants to close the last tiny bit of the gap between them.

“Well, stick around and you will,” Luke says. “And I’ll give you a private show tonight.”

Less subtle, admittedly, and Din shifts his weight in response. He’s closer to Luke, now; Luke exhales shakily.

“I look forward to it,” Din tells him.

There’s a moment where Luke can only lift his chin and his eyes, looking directly into where he knows Din’s eyes to be. He can see them, in his mind, and he hopes they’re happier than they were the only time he saw them. In his imagination, he sees them dark and warm, watching him with the heat Luke feels when he watches Din.

“Hey, Luke!” Han calls from across the field, and Luke jerks backwards, startled apart from Din and the moment they’d been trapped in. Grogu coos, tugging on Luke’s robes from Din’s arms, even as Luke whirls to look back to Han.

“Yes?” Luke shouts back, frustrated at the interruption. Han seems bewildered at the question for a moment before he looks down to Ben at his ankles.

“Uh, want supper at our place tonight?” Han calls. Luke furrows his brow, especially when Leia lightly whacks Han in the chest with the back of her hand. He scowls down at her.

“Sure,” Luke tells him, voice raised to be heard over the children. “I— Yes, that sounds lovely.” Luke turns back to Din and says, “I won’t be late, don’t worry. Your training is very important to m—”

“What do you want?” Han calls again. Luke spins to look at Han, hoping the glare will help him get the point. Leia clearly gets it, looking from Luke’s face to Han’s, waiting for something, but Han just looks back at him like he’s never done a thing wrong in his life. It doesn’t work; Luke knows for a fact that that’s not true.

“Whatever you want is fine,” Luke tells him. Han nods, sticking his hands in his pockets, still watching Luke expectantly. Luke hesitantly adds, across the _entire training pitch,_ “I can bring… dessert, if you’d like.”

“Great!” Han calls. Din shifts again, so Luke looks back to him.

“Are you…” Din stops, then offers, “If you’d like— I could—” Din stops once again. He seems to gather himself for a moment before he says to Luke, “I don’t want to pull you away from your family, so if you’d like to eat with me tomorrow night and we could meet then, instead. If you wanted.”

Luke grins at him. His stomach feels light, like it would lift right out of his mouth if he didn’t keep it in place, like his heels are barely touching the ground. Din has never felt closer, and so Luke suggests, “How about we meet up tonight after supper, _and_ tomorrow for supper?”

“That sounds good,” Din says simply. Luke smiles, reaching up to pat the side of Din’s helmet, where his cheek would be, without thinking. He feels his whole face heat up fast again, and he drops his hand, but Din’s fingers shoot up and wrap around his wrist.

“I—” Luke starts, then stops. He abruptly remembers he’s on the pitch in front of parents and children, and he clears his throat, shifting backwards just a bit. Din drops his wrist, but the imprint of his fingers there like a hot bracelet still lingers, and Luke wraps his own hand around the same space without thinking.

“My apologies,” Din says, “I wasn’t—”

“No, it’s my fault,” Luke says. He grins at Din and says, “I can be impulsive.”

Din laughs. He _laughs,_ and Luke just _itches_ inside, to touch him and just _say_ everything rushing inside of his head and his chest right now. He can’t, but he thinks he might be able to soon. The way Din laughs makes Luke laugh, too, delighted, _happy._

“I can tell,” Din says. “No, yes, I— I can tell, Luke.”

That just makes Luke laugh harder, pulling away from Din with a hand on his shoulder. He pats him there, then pulls away, practically vibrating for more.

“Master Luke!” Mako calls from behind him, and Luke turns away from Din with a last smile to greet her.

Din doesn’t leave, but instead returns to the sidelines of the training grounds, taking his seat once again. Grogu remains in his lap, placidly watching the older children as they gather loosely around Luke with their wooden practice sabers. Han and Leia are still off to the side, too, Ben wrestling playfully in the grass with Anina in front of them. Han’s eyes are fixed on Din, for some reason, but Leia looks to Luke. She shrugs, smiling.

The children in class lift their sabers and, at Luke’s instruction, begin to move through their sparring warm-ups beat for beat. They’re well-trained, by now, and Luke feels proud as he watches them practice.

He weaves between the rows of students, paired up by friends and acquaintances. Now and then, he stops to correct posture, the placement of feet, the way they grip their weapons, the way they swing, the way they parry and block and move. They’ve come such a long way, and so many of them are going to be even greater fighters than him, someday. He knows it, can tell already. Ben is among them, though he hasn’t said anything to Leia.

“Oh, look at that,” Luke comments as he watches Poe and A’lo sparring. Poe is only seven and A’lo is fifteen, but they’re two of his best students, and they’re locked in a heated match, exchanging well-rehearsed blows step for step. “Poe, good form. Now, A’lo— Hold on, hold on, stop, stop, stop.”

The both of them come to a halt, catching their breath as Luke reaches for Poe’s training sword. He hands it over without needing to be asked, stepping out of his way, and Luke steps in front of A’lo.

“Try that last move again with me,” Luke instructs her.

“Which one?” A’lo asks.

“The move over your head,” Luke says. He motions to show her, and her eyes light up with recognition. She shifts to step back into the move, walking through the few steps she did before that last move. When she lifts her saber over her head, Luke draws his sword over hers and brings it down; the motion vibrates through her arm, and she winces, loosening her grip to drop the weapon.

“Oh, sh— Whoops,” she says, eyes darting up to Luke as she shakes her hand out. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Luke says. “It’s a strong move, but you need further forearm strength to do it. I’ll think of exercises for you to do and we’ll revisit it, okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees, delighted, rolling up onto the balls of her feet. She turns back to Poe, eyes sparkling. “Wanna try again?”

“Yeah!” Poe agrees, and Luke steps aside to allow them to begin sparring again. When he lifts his head, he finds Han and Din _both_ looking at him, side-by-side, close enough that Luke sees them together at once. The both of them seem to be conversing, close together. Luke furrows his brow, watching them as Din lifts his head to look in his direction again, the helmet tilting in his direction.

They’re arguing, Luke realizes, the longer he’s watching them. He starts to cross the pitch to him, and Din steps away from Han, noticing him coming.

Han doesn’t notice, and he’s still saying something when Luke gets close enough to hear him. All Luke catches is the end of it, is Han saying, “—leaving him alone right _now—”_

“Han,” Luke says sharply, and Han’s head snaps up to see him.

“Luke,” Han says. “Look, Luke, I was just—”

“Don’t,” Luke tells him. His heart’s racing as he turns to Din and says, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Din says. “He makes a valid point, actually.”

“What?” Luke asks, as Han says, “I do?” and Leia asks, “He does?”

“He does,” Din agrees. He seems to survey Leia and Han for a moment before he leans closer to Luke. “We can talk tonight. If that would be alright with you.”

“It would,” Luke says. He turns to Han and says, “And I’ll see you tonight.”

He doesn’t let Han respond, just turns and walks back to his class, finding a student with their footing just slightly wrong to give him something to focus on. His mind spins, but he makes himself focus, for now.

* * *

When Luke goes to the home that Leia, Han, and Ben share that evening, he’s unsurprised to find their meal already made and on the table. Leia’s placing a small spoon in Ben’s hand as he scrambles up into his usual little chair.

“I thought you weren’t going to come,” Leia comments. “Han’s out back. Take your time, Ben’s going to take twice as long as us anyways.”

“Love you,” Luke says, and kisses Leia on the cheek.

“Love you,” Leia echoes. “Go easy on Han, alright? He doesn’t know how to feel things the right way, he’s stunted.”

Luke smiles and pats her on the back before he crosses the kitchen to their back door. “I know, don’t worry.”

Leia waves him off, letting Luke creak the back door open and step out into the darkened patch of grass behind their home. Han is standing close to the tree line, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He’s got his head craned back to look up at the stars far above them, eyes shining with the light.

“Hey, Luke,” Han says, without turning. Luke lets his arms slip into his robes to stay warm in the night chill, clasping his hands together underneath the folds.

“Hi,” Luke greets him.

“Sorry for earlier,” Han tells him. Luke knows it probably takes a lot for him to get that out, so he lets him say it, waits for more. Sure enough, Han adds, “I wasn’t really thinking, you know. I just want to make sure he’s doing the right thing.”

“He is,” Luke says. “You can trust me, you know.”

“I know that,” Han says, too quickly, looking down to Luke. They make eye contact, for a moment, before Han looks back to the sky. “No, I know that. I just meant to be _sure,_ you know that. I worry about you, kid.”

“I know,” Luke says.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” Han continues. “It’s going to get you hurt. Luke, it already _has._ I just— You know, didn’t want that to happen again.” Quieter, he adds, “You’re important to me.”

“You’re important to me,” Luke echoes. He means it, _powerfully,_ and he can tell Han feels that. Han looks down to him again, but doesn’t turn away so quickly this time. Instead, he studies Luke’s face in the starlight. “You always will be.”

For a long while, they just look at each other. Then, Han sighs, turning back to the sky.

“I know,” Han says again. “I know that.”

They’re quiet for a long time again. After a while, Luke slips his hand through Han’s arm, tugging him slightly towards the house.

“We should eat,” Luke tells him. “I have plans tonight.”

Han snorts, but he lets Luke drag him back inside for supper. They share soup together, and Luke apologizes for having forgotten dessert, promising he’d come by tomorrow with two desserts when Ben begs him. After wishing Ben goodnight and kissing Leia’s and Han’s cheeks, Luke leaves them there, a family in their home.

The house Din is staying in has one warm light on in the front, but most of the place is dark. The front door opens a bit when Luke draws closer, and Din slips out through the crack, tugging the door shut lightly behind him without a sound.

“The kid’s asleep,” Din tells him quietly. He motions for Luke to follow, and Luke does, heading for the main path with Din. “He’ll be okay by himself for a little bit.”

“He will,” Luke agrees, even though Din doesn’t need him to.

They walk in silence, for a short while, before Din asks, “You and Han. What should I know?”

“We used to…” Luke starts to say, then stops. “He and Leia are a better fit. They make each other happy, and Ben— I can’t imagine my life without Ben.”

“I know how that feels,” Din tells him.

“Do you?” Luke asks.

“I do,” Din says, and comes to a stop. They’re in the shadow of the Academy building, the starlight shining everywhere around them. Din’s helmet is practically glittering with it. In this moment, Luke knows Han is his past, and Din can be his future. He's giddy with the thought.

“But we’re not any more than that,” Luke tells Din honestly. “Not anymore.”

“He’s possessive,” Din comments.

“He’s jealous,” Luke says, and realizes it’s true. “I can’t blame him. I was jealous of my own sister because of him.”

“I understand,” Din tells him. “I… I feel jealous. Of him.”

Luke’s heart flies into his throat. He needs to take a moment before he asks, “You do?”

“I do,” Din confesses. “I do, and I wish I didn’t.”

“You don’t have to be,” Luke says. It’s a leap of faith, to say something like that, but he doubles down and tells Din, “There’s nothing to be jealous of. Not for you, anyways.”

“Not for me?” Din echoes.

“No,” Luke says. He tilts his head up to look at Din in the moonlight and the starlight, backlit by the infinite glow of space. Din’s only a couple of inches taller than him, but the helmet can be misleading. In Luke’s imagination, he can see Din’s face under the helmet, and it makes his skin break out all over in gooseflesh, the hairs all standing up.

“There’s something…” Din starts to say, then stops. Luke reaches down and threads their fingers together, and he can feel the way Din responds to him. Not just through the Force, but through his body, through the air around him, through _him._ Din responds so warmly that Luke can’t help but lean in, pushing himself up to meet Din’s helmet. Din drops his head down, and the cool metal of his helmet meets Luke’s forehead.

The intimacy of the gesture isn’t lost on Luke. He wishes they could push their foreheads together, skin to skin, to actually feel Din’s flesh on his, but he understands all the same.

“There’s something,” Din tries again, “about you. And it compels me, and I want— I want to know more. And know you.”

“I want to know you,” Luke tells him quietly, honestly. Din lifts his hand to grip Luke’s shoulder, then his upper arm, his hand tight. Luke wants it tighter, and he pushes in, leaning close. Din supports him, lets Luke support him in return.

“You will,” Din tells him.

“And you’ll know me.” Luke shifts again and lifts his chin instinctively before realizing he can’t kiss Din. The movement isn’t lost on Din, though, he can tell, because his helmet shifts to track his movement, his shoulders rotate a bit.

Luke is about to apologize when Din separates them slightly. For a moment, Luke feels the hot burn of shame, but then Din says, “No, no, wait.”

Luke just watches as Din reaches up and grips the sides of his helmet. In his chest, Luke’s heart races, thumping against his chest in hard beats, thrumming, his veins rushing with fire. Din doesn’t lift the helmet all the way off, but he tilts it up and back, allowing his chin and mouth to come free of the helmet.

He doesn’t go any further, but Luke understands. He’s still trembling as his tilts his chin up again and Din drops his head down to meet him in the kiss. The edge of Din’s helmet digs into Luke’s skin, but he presses harder all the same. Din’s gloved hands thread up through Luke’s hair; Luke shivers, pushing closer into him, deepening their kiss. He’s the one who licks into Din’s mouth, but Din is the one who moans, low and unmodulated, and Luke all but loses his mind at the sound.

When they separate, the both of them drawing in air sharply at the break, Luke can’t believe his luck.

“Are we still on for supper tomorrow?” Luke asks breathlessly. Din laughs, and the pure sound of it, unchanged by his helmet, is the greatest sound Luke thinks he’s heard in a long, long time.

“Yes,” Din tells him. “I’d hope we are.”

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm gonna do a part three, I just love established relationship and I want them to kiss more, so sue me!!!!!!
> 
> You can (and should!) comment to chat with me, or talk with me about this fic on Twitter at [@nicole__mello](https://twitter.com/nicole__mello) and/or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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